


Along the Winter Road

by Kikimay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Climate Disaster, Falling In Love, Found Families, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Orphan Albus Severus, Pollution - Freeform, Post-Apocalypse, Romance, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 09:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21455956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikimay/pseuds/Kikimay
Summary: Once the sky was blue.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, implied past Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	Along the Winter Road

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Candamira, happy Christmas! 
> 
> Your prompt about a dystopian AU was inspiring and, although I didn't menage to incorporate all your favorite tropes, I truly hope you'll like this story. 
> 
> Many thanks to Orpheous87 for her precious help.

A deafening noise. Then dirt, floating in the air and everywhere around, turning the sky black and yellow.

The little boy rolled up among stones and roots, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. The noise was the worst part of it. He peeked one eye open, but the dirt was still floating around and he couldn’t see the clouds, or the man. There was a man before … there was …

“I’m here!” the man said, somewhere in the dark. “I’m coming to you!”

Again with the noise, the little boy couldn’t hold back his sobs. It was terrifying when they were so loud, explosions and fires triggered by something he couldn’t understand.

“I’m here, I’m here …” said the man, crawling towards him to grab his shoulders. “I’m not leaving.”

The little boy had heard of Harry Potter; he was the hero who saved the world once and he was going to do that again. Save the world from the strange magic that had turned the trees grey and swallowed the boy’s family, leaving him alone.

“Don’t be afraid,” the man whispered once again; as the air was growing thicker and more unbreathable, he grabbed something from his pocket and pressed it against the boy’s mouth; suddenly fresh breeze swamped his lungs and he could open both eyes and look at his saviour.

It was a pale man, so very pale, with blond hair and grey eyes.

Didn’t Harry Potter, the hero, have green eyes?

“You’re safe now,” the man whispered.

Young Albus fell asleep.

*

The first thing he saw waking up was the bright yellow of the fabric above his head. The sun was illuminating it, making Albus’ eyes hurt. Next to him there was a sleeping man covered in swollen pustules that almost made Albus gag.

He turned around, trying to bury his head in the pillow. He wasn’t going to look at that again, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and ignore everything as he learned to …

“Hi!” a small voice called from behind him. Albus craned his neck as much as he could, curious to see the speaker.

From the tent opening, a boy came trotting towards him. He was skinny and pale, wearing an old jumper and a pair of huge goggles on his very blond head.

“Hi, Scorpius!” the boy chirped, jumping to sit at the end of Albus’ bed. “I mean … my name is Scorpius,” he clarified. “What’s your name?”

“Al - Albus …”

“Nice to meet you, Albus! It’ll be so fun to have a new friend here, the others are all adults! My dad saved you!”

Albus’ eyes got wider.

“He told me,” Scorpius explained immediately. “There was an explosion in the woods, because of the wacky magic and the fog. The fog is called _pollination_ and it happened because Muggles didn’t care about the Earth! But now Dad and his friends are going to fix it and, one day, we’ll see the sky blue!”

“The sky isn’t blue,” Albus pointed out, puzzled.

“But it was before! Dad told me, it’s true.”

Albus shrugged, not really persuaded by the boy’s arguments.

“Is your dad Harry Potter?” he asked then.

Scorpius giggled.

“No, silly! Harry’s my daddy’s friend. He’s here too, you know? And he’ll save us all as he did before. That’s why he’s a hero. But my dad is a hero too! His name is Draco Malfoy.”

*

Draco Malfoy was Scorpius’ father. They looked very much alike; both blond, pale and skinny, with bright grey eyes. Scorpius’ face was rounder and rosier, he smiled a lot and always wore his pair of blue goggles on his head.

Draco smiled rarely, mostly at his son; he had long thin hair and used to wear black. He was a _potionist_ or _alchelist_ \- Albus couldn’t recall the proper word - and he made healing potions against the fog because sometimes, breathing too much of it, meant getting horribly sick or even dying. He had his son wear the huge goggles and sometimes he covered his mouth with a damp cloth.

He did the same for Albus, gave him a pair of goggles and a perpetually charmed breathing cloth, but he noticed that Albus’ eyes were immune from the effects of the fog.

“Where did you grow up?” he asked, pointing his shining wand against Albus’ nose, in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. “Your eyes are … healthy.”

“I lived in a big house with the other lost boys and girls, they were older. We were watched by teachers.”

“Don’t you have a mum or dad?”

Albus bit his lower lip.

“I must have had them before, they told me I did, but I can’t remember.”

Draco Malfoy’s questions were the hardest to answer. He used to look at Albus’ eyes and noise and often checked on his lungs, because he was exposed to pollution for way too long (he told him so) and he was supposed to be sick, but he wasn’t. Draco checked on him and then went into his tent to make more potions and write endless papers.

Scorpius was funnier than his father. He asked a lot of questions, but told Albus a great many things about blue skies, and stars, and forests as they were before the disaster.

They lived in a camp surrounded by protective magic. They couldn’t see the protection, but Scorpius assured him that it was there and prevented the fog from coming in. They moved a lot too, because people needed to be saved and because they were heading North, where Hermione Granger was.

“She’s the greatest witch of her age!” Scorpius told him one evening, while they were cleaning their dusty boots after a day of walking. “She’s a friend of Dad and Harry Potter and Ron! She’s inventing the magic to fix the fog and bring everything back to normal.”

“How was normal?”

Scorpius shrugged, fixing the goggles on his head.

“I don’t know, but they always say it was super nice.”

*

Ron, or Ronald Weasley, was a tall, thin wizard with orange hair and pink skin covered in freckles. He was the second friend Albus made in the camp. He was charming and funny and very generous with him. He liked to play with Scorpius when he wasn’t on patrol duty, and he was in love with Hermione Granger (Scorpius told him so because his Dad had told him so).

He was pretty focused on the idea of getting to her, but he was also patient when they had to stop because people needed help and the fog was too dark to march in the forest. He collected blackberries and gave them to Scorpius and Albus. He was Harry Potter’s best friend.

“How do you know all these things?” Albus asked, crossing legs in the bed next to Scorpius’.

They were confined to a tent, because it was raining smelly water and the adults didn’t want them anywhere near, as they struggled to protect the goods stored in the camp.

“Because of the war story!” Scorpius exclaimed. “Everyone knows it, my Dad told me many times before and the other witches and wizards did too. Even Muggles sometimes know!”

“But I don’t …” Albus said, a bit embarrassed by his own ignorance. He never knew there was so much to learn about the world around him, he lived his previous life sheltered by his guardians in a building far from everything.

“The point is,” Scorpius asserted in a squeaky voice. “It’s true: Harry, Ron and Hermione saved the world from the most evil wizard ever and that’s why they are going to save it now.”

“That’s why he’s always busy and never has time to talk?”

“Harry Potter? Yes, heroes are generally busy.”

Albus nodded, still couldn’t help but feel a sting of pain in his chest. Harry Potter himself wasn’t rude with him or anything, but he rarely spent his time playing with Albus or even speaking to him. It felt almost as the little boy didn’t exist. He behaved a little differently with Scorpius, probably because he was friend of his dad, but still didn’t make as many jokes or smiles as Ron, especially when Albus was around.

The boy started wondering if, maybe, there was something wrong with him.

*

The night was quiet. After an entire afternoon of acid rain, the air was breathable again, thanks to the spells performed all around the camp. Scorpius and his new friend, the boy found in the crumbling orphanage, were asleep in his tent and Draco was free to go to Harry’s for the report.

He moved quickly through the sleeping camp, boots sinking in the mud. He opened Harry’s tent and walked inside. There was still a light shining by the wizard’s desk, but he was snoring with his face buried in his arms.

“Harry …” he whispered, patting on his shoulder tenderly. “I came for the report.”

Harry shook his head and opened his eyes.

“Fuck, I fell asleep.”

“That’s okay,” Draco smiled. “You need rest too.”

“No, no … you came for the … the report. I should -” he rubbed his hands on his face, vigorously, and turned to Draco now fully awake. “I’m sorry, you can tell me now.”

“There’s nothing to tell really,” Draco replied. “Rain’s over and the air is clean. We can stay put for a couple of days, to check on everything and store the food, but we should be able to march again on Wednesday. That’s all.”

“Okay, thank you for telling me.”

“I should have let you sleep. When was the last time you had a proper night of rest?”

Harry scratched his wild hair.

“You must rest,” Draco insisted. “You’ll get sick if you don’t and we can’t have that.”

“Why, because I’m the perfect leader?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course you’re our leader and we’re following you but …” the wizard bit his lip; Harry looked at him, puzzled. “I’ll give you a tonic.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Oh, you do! Listen to the potioneer!” He moved his wand and levitated a vial towards Harry. “Drink this.”

“Draco …”

“Don’t argue.”

Harry stilled, relaxing his shoulders as the vial pressed against his lips and poured its content in his mouth.

“It tastes like raspberries.”

“Do you like it?” Draco asked. “I’m working on improving the flavour.”

“Scorpius has nothing to do with that, right?”

Draco suppressed a smile, sat down next to him.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” Harry conceded with a sigh.

“You should really take some rest, it’s not a sin,” Draco murmured. “And, before you object, being strong and healthy will be far more useful for the people you want to save than having you faint in the middle of a rescue mission. You’re our guide, Harry. I know you didn’t choose to become that and I know you feel responsible anyway, but you’re vulnerable too and you can’t forget that.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Oh believe me, your actions tell a different story,” Draco smiled as he noticed a mischievous light in Harry’s eyes, the warmth on his cheeks. “You should talk to the little boy we saved, his name is Albus.”

Harry frowned.

“Why would you say that?”

Draco almost regretted his words, but there was no use in pretending, not with the life they were living.

“I noticed that you tend to avoid him. You’re caring towards Scorpius and with this child … it seems like you’re afraid of him sometimes.”

“That’s stupid!”

“And you are not,” Draco retorted.

He took a long, careful look at Harry and decided to push his luck.

“What’s wrong, can you tell me?”

“He’s just …” Harry’s jaw clenched and unclenched, he fixed his glasses. “I don’t want to feel … to get too attached,” he confessed.

Draco didn’t reply.

“It’s a disgusting thing to say, I know.”

“No,” he whispered, and held Harry’s hands firmly in his own. “No, it’s not.”

Harry looked up at him, like a man desperate for saving, Draco’s heart ached in his chest.

“You remember when Scorpius and I joined the group,” he said, voice steady despite his inner emotional turmoil. “When you accepted us, really.”

“It wasn’t just me …”

“It was you,” Draco persisted. “If it weren’t for you I would end up killing myself, because I couldn’t save my son just as I didn’t save my wife.”

“Draco …”

“And now you are scared because of a little boy who needs you, that you could fail or hurt … I know the feeling, I’m dealing with it everyday. I understand, no matter what.”

Harry let out a strangled sob and lowered his head until it was pressed against Draco’s chest. The potionist let a trembling hand wander in the wildness of his black hair.

“I’m behaving like shit!” Harry uttered. “Fuck! I’m sorry.”

“You’re human, that’s alright.”

“It’s just … he’s an orphan, like me. _It’s harder._”

Draco sighed, his hand moving in a slow circular motion.

“He is a bit like you,” he whispered.

“How so?”

“Selfless, brave.”

_Beautiful_, he didn’t say.

Harry raised his head, eyes glossy and unfocused, lips reddened.

“‘M not a hero,” he mumbled.

“That’s up to debate.”

“Don’t ...” he moved closer. “I want to ask you something,” he said. “After this is done, when we get to Hogwarts and Hermione …”

“Yes?”

Harry took his hand.

“Will you let me … will we …”

Draco smiled brightly, holding on his touch, crossing their fingers.

“Yes,” he whispered, lips so close in a prelude to a kiss.

“I want to do this with you,” Harry whispered. “I can’t do it alone. If I … I can be there for Scorpius … and Albus, with you.”

“I want to same.”

“Good.”

They stared into each other’s eyes and burst out laughing. Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder.

“I’m tired of this mess, exhausted …”

“I know,” Draco sighed against his ear. “We’ll fix it.”

“It won’t bring back the ones we lost on the way …”

“No, it won’t. But we’ll give a better future to the children. Isn’t that the whole point after all?”

“It is.”

“And it’ll give us a chance.”

Harry stared at him once again.

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

*

They had started marching in the dark, and now the light was filtering among the forest trees and the faint clouds covering the sky.

Albus looked up with his newly-made orange goggles.

Scorpius was walking alongside him as always, his footsteps a melody against loneliness and pain. Albus’ one true friend.

His father, Draco, came closer.

“Sweetheart, the fog is becoming thicker. I’ll carry you if it gets worse,” he said and offered a hand to his son, who turned to Albus unsure.

He didn’t have a dad to carry him. Perhaps uncle Ron …

“Hey.”

Albus turned to the opposite side, nose up and cheeks flushed in surprise.

Harry Potter was offering him his hand.

“I can carry you, if that’s okay.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Albus frowned shyly, as he stepped a bit towards him.

Ron came running from the end of the line.

“Fog wind! Fog wind!” he screamed. “Everyone get closer and walk faster! We’re getting to the safe spot!”

Harry smiled.“You heard him,” he swiftly took Albus in his arms. He felt the little boy’s entwined fingers on the back of his neck, his face pressed against his chest which was bursting with a sense of purpose and peacefulness.

“That’s nice!” Scorpius voiced in his father’s arms. “Now we both won’t have to walk, Al!”

“You’ll help me get the tent clean once we arrive,” Draco warned, staring at his son with a wannabe mean expression.

Then he turned to Harry and with his free hand entwined their fingers.

“Is that okay?” he whispered almost imperceptibly.

“More than,” Harry replied.

They kept on marching.


End file.
